


Marvin's Room

by Eottoghe



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Infidelity, Love Triangles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 10:38:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11530494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eottoghe/pseuds/Eottoghe
Summary: “Hey. I know it’s late, but I really need you right now.”“It’s been… rough lately and you were always someone I could depend on to—““I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called.”“I—I hope you’re happy.”Beep.To repeat this message press one.Click.





	Marvin's Room

**Author's Note:**

> I was using the song, Marvin's room as writing mood music for my other fic, but it went and inspired me to write this. It's only a oneshot. And I had intended for it to be smut, but got too caught up in the emotional aspect and scrapped that idea.
> 
> If you haven't heard Marvin's room by drake and also JOJO'S REMIX of it, I highly encourage it. It's got that vibe, ya dig?

_“Hey. I know it’s late, but I really need you right now.”_

_“It’s been… rough lately and you were always someone I could depend on to—“_

_“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called.”_

_“I—I hope you’re happy.”_

_Beep._

_To repeat this message press one._

_Click._

 

A deep sigh escaped out chapped lips as the lightning cracked and the wind howled feverishly. Flashes of light, emblazed the empty rooms in bursts before recoiling their bright tendons and shrouding the house in darkness once again. The rolling thunder in the distance stood at bay, daunting and dangerous. If the storm was a warning sign, the message had been clearly delivered.

_You could be making the worst mistake of your life, but then again you might have already made that decision long ago. Do I really know happiness or do I just have an image of how it should be? Is it true happiness if you have to question it?_

_We’re better off without each other. It’s for the best._

 

Jeonghan stood up precariously, his knees feeling weak and wobbly. Another night had brought forth more storms, but it seemed to retreat as quickly as it had come. He made his way out of the kitchen from where he’d hunched over as a nauseating feeling washed over him. He’d stayed there for long, drawn out minutes with bated breath, listening. Listening to the sound of his voice. It brought up such euphoric feelings of nostalgia, toes squishing wet sand and sunshine licking pale skin. The feeling made him sick and thrilled him all at once.

He made his way to his bedroom, phone clutched tightly in hand. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the empty house. It was just him. Another night of restlessness and trepidation met him as his head hit the cool pillowcase. Jeonghan was too hot, despite the blasting AC and was refreshed that his sheets were just as lonely as he felt. To be warm and numb. He felt the soft cotton bedspread underneath his slim fingers and the slow roll of a bead of sweat drip down his neck. He felt the emptiness of space and the presence of air. To feel everything, yet nothing at all.

Every single bad deed he’d done in his life resurfaced in the depths of the night, harvesting his mind and manifesting themselves in the world. Past ghosts would visit him. They prowled in the crevices of his spacious room and peeked behind silk embroidered curtains. They’d breathe down his neck, spilling unnerving words of recurring insecurities and woes of loneliness. The demons were only present when no one else was. That’s why when Jisoo was gone for the night, he’d roam the vast expense of their shared home before his knees gave out and dizziness made him succumb to exhaustion.

The digital clock on the bedside table read 3:29 in blinking red numbers. They stood out harshly in the dark. Jeonghan had gotten a call earlier that night from Jisoo saying that he’d had to take an overnight shift at the hospital again. He’d be home the next day, but by then Jeonghan would already be out the door on his way to work. Their paths crossed just seconds too late like the tragic tale of Romeo and Juliet. As the low rumble of thunder faded into silence, he rocked himself to sleep. By the time his heavy eyelids met their fate, his alarm clock began blaring obnoxiously. Night had turned into day all too soon. Another cycle of insomnia would begin again.

* * *

 

“Jeonghan?” The man in question raised his head at the calling of his name. “You must not have gotten a lot of sleep last night.” Jun chuckled at the disheveled hair of his best friend, motioning for him to wipe his face.

Jeonghan shook his head, wiping his mouth quickly. He withdrew his hand, making a face of disgust at the drool that had accumulated on his chin.

“Oh man. That’s gross.” Jun laughed again, tousling the short blonde hair of his co-worker. He grunted out in response, resting his chin back on his hand and rolling his eyes.

Jun was always quick to tease and joke around with the other, but he was quite shocked to see the puffy eye bags of his friend. His eyes were unfocused as he struggled to keep them open. He looked rather sickly and Jun had to question whether he should be at work at all. The locally known book café was home to half of their day. It was quiet and quaint, but had a stiff air surrounding it. Jun felt uncomfortable with the judgmental patrons, often looking down on him as their noses turned up. It was too snobbish and once or twice a day he’d get a condescending note of how his service could have been better. Jeonghan made it bearable, but his partner in crime seemed out of commission for the day.

“Hey. I think you should go take a nap in the break room. You aren’t looking too well. I’m sure Seokmin won’t mind.” He tried to sympathize, knowing something has been up with his co-worker for the past week. Something had shifted his demeanor and kept him on edge.

Jeonghan stubbornly rolled his eyes again. “Who’s going to help the customers, Junhui?” He crossed his arms, fully standing up.

“Not you the way things are going.” He reached out to brush some of Jeonghan’s hair out of his face. “If I’m being honest. You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit.” Jeonghan mumbled back.

“Even more reason. The only reason half of these gross old men ever come here is to ogle at your—”

“I’ll go if you stop talking.”

“I’m just saying. They don’t come for your work ethic, that’s for sure.” He said pushing him back behind the counter and in the direction of the break room. “Especially with you sleeping on the job…” He made a tsking sound as he watched the other trudge slowly into the other room. He made sure he was in and the door was securely shut before he pulled out his phone. He decided to shoot Jisoo a text before returning to his station.

_Check on your husband when you can. I think something’s wrong._

_Send._

“It seems like this young boy is always distracted on his phone whenever we visit. What awful service.” A grumpy old woman commented as she passed him by.

 _If you don’t like the service, you don’t have to come._ He thought bitterly before pocketing his phone and returning to his station.

 

 

Jeonghan was curled oddly on the small couch squeezed into the break room. The hum of the refrigerator buzzed loudly in the small space and the swift breeze of air from the vent above gave him little goosebumps along his pale skin. He had enveloped himself in Jun’s coat he kept in the back, _“It’s always too fucking cold in here.”_ He’d complained once before stashing the coat in there during all seasons.

He began to finally drift off into sleep when his phone gave a familiar chime. He reached above his head where a small table sat and grabbed his phone, unlocking it and reading the message.

_Hey. Are you okay?  
Joshuji, 12:13p.m._

_I’m fine. Why do you ask?  
Hannie, 12:15 p.m._

_A little birdie told me you weren’t feeling well.  
Joshuji, 12:16p.m._

_Well that little birdie can go fall out a tree. I’m fine. Just haven’t been sleeping too well.  
Hannie, 12:16p.m._

_You could sleep all day if you want~  
Joshuji, 12:21p.m._

_But I have a job, Jisoo~  
Hannie, 12:22p.m._

_But you don’t have to have a job. I told you, I can take care of you. You don’t need to worry.  
Joshuji, 12:23p.m._

_And neither do you. I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.  
Hannie, 12:24p.m._

_:( Okay. I love you.  
Joshuji 12:24p.m._

Jeonghan put down his phone heaving a great sigh. First off, he was going to murder Jun for running his mouth to Jisoo. He hadn’t told him about his insomnia the past week because he was well aware of the stress it would induce. Jisoo had a knack for worrying which played both the devil and the angel toward his career as a doctor. He always cared too much. So much that when Jeonghan had told him he wanted to get a job, Jisoo all but refused. He didn’t want his husband to have to stress over work or the income and tried to handle all of their hardships on his own. Jeonghan fumed underneath the surface, always being petted and pampered like some prized possession. He didn’t want to be entirely reliant on someone else for his own well-being. It’d happened once before and the very thought of it made his stomach flip.

As Jisoo soaked up all the praise a well off doctor in a major hospital in Seoul could, Jeonghan was left at home by himself to plunge into his thoughts, drowning in his anxieties. Their home was lavish. Jisoo indulged himself in the best for him and his partner, trying to push every bit of love and compassion through the luxuries of plush carpets and ceramic decorations. Jeonghan, however knew that the extravagant house on the hill could never live up to an embrace from his lover. He was beginning to realize that more and more as time passed by.

He figured there was no use in trying to get sleep now as his mind rolled through a thousand thoughts per minute. He was now wide awake. He unraveled himself from Jun’s coat, placing it on the table. He fixed his appearance, trying not to look as off quilter and walked back into the front of the building. This day was going to be long.

* * *

 

And that it was. Jeonghan had never found himself so frustrated with his job and by the time his weary feet led him home, he’d thought he’d collapse. One man needed help finding a book Jeonghan was sure didn’t exist, yet he allowed himself to be pulled through every applicable section, the man begging for him to read the titles out one by one. Another woman had complained about her coffee to him, demanding him to remake it although he repeatedly told her the coffee parlor was on the other side of the store and 100% out of his jurisdiction. Some school age kids came to try and hassle his phone number from him, but no matter how much he politely declined, they were persistent in keeping his attention. _Maybe I should have stayed hidden._

 

Preparing for another pathetically fear induced night, he unlocked the door only to find that the lights were still on. A sweet aroma filled his nostrils as the sizzling of a frying pan could be heard coming from the kitchen.

“Shua? Are you home?” Jeonghan called out tentatively. He slipped on his house slippers and trotted further into the house.

“Come here. I want you to try this.” Jisoo turned around, a charming grin on his face. Jeonghan instantly rushed into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Hannie, I’m still cooking you don’t want the food to burn, do you?”

“I don’t care.” Jeonghan said contently pressing small, fluttering kisses all over his husband. Jisoo dropped the spatula he was holding on the counter to return the hug his clingy Hannie had smothered him in.

“If this is the treatment I get, I’ll make sure to leave more often.” He laughed heartily, squeezing the other and lifting him slightly off the ground. Jeonghan’s face flushed in a heated embarrassment. He always showed Jisoo affection, but maybe he was being a little forward tonight. His day hadn’t gone right. Nights hadn’t been any better. He was always too hot and numb and alone. He’d missed Jisoo terribly and finally having his familiar scent of strawberries and antiseptics dance around him like a belated celebration made him feel safer than he had in a while. He hadn’t even realized his salty tears began to soak through Jisoo’s white t-shirt.

“Jeonghan?” he asked. He pulled away just enough to be able to see the other’s expression. With an arm-length of distance, Jeonghan tried to inadvertently to hide his face, but it was obvious enough.

I’m sorry.” He whispered and brought both of Jeonghan’s hands down from his face, kissing the palms, and then holding them in his. “I should be here for you more. I don’t like seeing you like this. We’ll eat dinner than cuddle all night if you want.” Jeonghan nodded his head, feeling more like a child if anything. “I’ll even be little spoon.”

That wide, pearly grin Jisoo grew to love had made its way back home to his angel. A smile he could get lost in and had so many times before.

The night was filled with catching up and lazy kisses shared in bed. Cuddling up to Jisoo, Jeonghan was finally able to fall asleep. The storms had ceased. The demons were quiet. The air was cooling.

But then, his phone began to ring, the familiar midnight visitor blaring loudly on the bedside table. It woke Jeonghan with a start but he decided to ignore it. He had sleep. He had Jisoo. He had love.

It went quiet and a chime went off, signaling a voicemail. After settling back down, he began to drift again, only for the ring to persist. It seemed louder and more intrusive. Jisoo stirred and turned to face Jeonghan.

“Who do you think is calling this late? Maybe it’s an emergency” Jisoo said, his voice husky and hot.

Jeonghan knew, but he couldn’t let Jisoo know. So he ignored it.

“It’s fine. I’ll let it go to voicemail and check it in the morning.” He said, avoiding the question asked. They had wrapped their arms back around each other, snuggling into the warmth of the other.

But the tension ran high when the phone began to ring a third time and Jisoo moved to pick it up. Jeonghan snatched it from the table before he could though, hoping the act didn’t look too suspicious. He sat up, facing away from the other, partly to conceal his guilty face and mostly to cover the caller ID.

 

 _“Jeonghan?”_ The voice sounded so distant, yet sweet like the honeydew of a hot summer. To hear him call his name again was like a feeling of triumph mixed with the pain of piercing shrapnel. It came tumbling back so quickly. Memory upon memory.

 _“Are you there? Jeonghan?”_ It called again leaving the receiver in a stupor, blank and vacant. It took his mind too long to turn its gears. Jisoo was getting restless. The caller was getting desperate.

_“I miss y—”_

“I told you and your friends to stop the prank calls. It’s not funny waking people up in the middle of the night. Thank you.” Jeonghan’s heart beat skips, clicking _End_ and waiting. He waits for Jisoo to say something. He waits for another ring that never comes. He mumbles something about his sister, hoping Jisoo would buy the tall tale.

Eventually, arms came to encompass his waist and drag him back to the comfort of his lover. Only, it was no longer comfortable. It was hot. The body pressed against his—blazing, the scorch of a fire not coming close to the heat that curled the tips of his hair. It burned so hot, he couldn’t stand to breathe. Inhaling the scent of strawberries and antiseptic made his stomach churn and he felt like he was a kid trapped in the teacups again. He wanted to get off the ride, but Jisoo held tighter.

* * *

 

That night had begun so well. It seemed his insomnia was cured, but all in the span of a few moments, he was left with that familiar sense of dread as even Jisoo couldn’t ward off his demons.

The next night, it rained long and hard. The silvery sea above cried and wailed. He didn’t wait for the call this time.

Empty wine bottles laid strewn across the beige carpet of Seungcheol’s apartment. Stains of red speckled the areas surrounding them, drinks spilled over laughter. A shirt thrown here, a sock thrown there. Their bodies collided like two comets targeting the other.

_“I really need you right now.”_

A broken whisper called out.

They could try and blame it on the alcohol, but with or without it, the undeniable pull one had on the other couldn’t keep them separated for long. Jeonghan had made the first move. First by knocking on Seungcheol’s door in the late hours of the night, and secondly, by crashing his lips to the stained red ones of Seungcheol’s. The wine tasted bitter, yet sweet as their tongues blended together.

Seungcheol remembered the shape of his body. He remembered the taste of his skin and the sound of his moans. He remembered the way Jeonghan’s body would melt into his hands and arch into his hips. And it seemed Jeonghan remembered it too.

He couldn’t help the guilt that plagued his mind. The words of _adulterer, traitor, whore_ hissed in his ear. But his mind wasn’t in control of his body. He accepted Seungcheol’s embrace—missed it even. He wrapped his arms around broad shoulders he hadn’t met in over a year. The hands that held his hips were calloused, yet soft. The lips that kissed away his inhibitions left him in a frenzying mess. As hips rocked into him, hard and slow, he felt himself surrender to the will of his secret lover.

 

Jisoo called that night, the phone going straight to voicemail. It had been off.  _“I’ll be working overnight again. I’ll make sure to see you in the morning. I love you. Talk to you later.”_

Only, Jisoo hadn’t seen his lover the next morning. The house was empty. It had been all night.

* * *

 

_“I really need you right now.”_

Had Jeonghan made the worst mistake of his life by following that voice?

Probably.

But he knew he’d follow it to the depths of the sea.

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually really fun to write so I hope you enjoyed it. I'm a sucker for Jeongharem so like... if he's the center of my universe, I want him to be the center of yours too.
> 
> But seriously, stan my angel Yoon Jeonghan. Thank you for reading. Comments, Concerns, and Kudos greatly appreciated.  
> Also, hit me up on tumblr @eottoghe !


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